


Autumn eats its leaf from my hand (we are friends)

by jennifercharter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Future Fic, Non-Chronological, Pack Family, Post-Series, Viral Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4580991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennifercharter/pseuds/jennifercharter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia got the internship of her dreams, on the other side of the country. She used to dream of getting out of Beacon Hills and never looking back. But when the world ends and all she has left are memories, she wishes she could just go back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn eats its leaf from my hand (we are friends)

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this is taken from the poem “Corona” by the late Paul Celan.  
> I own nothing.

“It’s the end of the world,” one of the girls whispered as they watched the flames and smoke.

Lydia sighed. “The world is over four and a half billion years old. Depending on your definition of humanity you might say we are six million, two million, or only ten thousand years old, depending on whether you classify humanity by civilization or the evolution of brain size. There are theories-“

She stopped when she saw the looks they were giving her. “Even at six million, we barely register as a moment in the history of the Earth. The world isn’t ending, honey. Humanity isn’t even ending.” She looked back out at the smoke and thought of her friends, of what they had all become. She wanted them so badly she hurt. “We are ever-evolving and this is just another step in the process.”

“Lydia?” Lydia smiled very slightly at the annoyance in Robert’s voice. “Shut up.”

“What is that,” Penny whispered. 

Lydia followed her gestures to the sky, and sighed. “A corona. From the smoke.”

“It’s beautiful,” someone said, but she didn’t bother to see who.

It’s the burning of the world, she wanted to say, and then she imagined her friends standing with her, listening to someone say that a sign of all the destruction around them was beautiful.

It’s the apocalypse, Stiles would say, flailing his arms. How can anything about an apocalypse be beautiful?

Scott would add something calming, perhaps reminding them that everything was going to be fine because they were all together. Kira would agree, clutching his hand.

Malia would be confused at all the people standing and watching the fires, because honestly, aren’t there better things to be doing?

And Allison, God, Allison. She would remind them all that beauty and hope has to be found, even at the end of the world.

It’s not the end of the world, she reminded herself and the spectres in her mind. Not even close. Even though she was all alone and would never see her friends again. Maybe it’s the end of the world she knew, at least.

“Lydia?” She looked up, and saw Robert frowning at her, his arm around Mrs Schofield’s shoulders as she wept. “Are you alright?”

She smiled and wished heartily that wherever they were, her friends had found some beauty and hope. “I’m fine,” she said softly, and left them all on the roof.

 

When the virus had made the news, Lydia hadn’t really paid attention, despite Stiles’ panic, because… it was Stiles. It was half a world away and she had to work. Her internship was amazing, and being in Boston was amazing, and she was happy, even if she missed her friends.

She made snarky comments to Stiles over the phone, ignored his stories of sudden and frequent trips to the grocery and hardware stores, and wished heartily for Scott to reel him in before he went too far down the crazy path. Life as usual.

The world started to fall apart rather quickly, honestly, although she should have expected that. 

She knew better than most that people are really animals, but she also knew monsters that were more human than other humans. 

Her internship had given her a rare opportunity to get away from the insanity her life had been the last few years. She’d played tourist on her weekends and evenings, and jokingly sent pictures of herself in the Beacon Hill neighborhood back to her friends in Beacon Hills. Their responses had been dry and witty, as she’d expected.

Then, an incoming plane to Logan was quarantined, and then another in New York, and another in D.C.

It was a coronavirus, which honestly didn’t concern her all that much. Only a handful of people were sick. Of course, that handful were dying rapidly. She was aware of hygiene and didn't let anyone near enough for her to worry very much about transmission. 

Riots became a constant in remote areas of Europe and Africa.

“You need to come back,” Kira argued with her over the phone.

“I only have two weeks left,” she sighed, feeling an oncoming migraine.

“It’s just, we’ve been hearing about omens and everyone has a bad feeling about this. Deaton is worried, and Scott says that is a very bad sign.”

Lydia faltered. “How worried?”

“Um… according to Scott? Very. According to Stiles? Apocalypse.” There was a flurry of voices in the background and Kira’s protests, and then Stiles was on the phone. “You need to be on the next plane. I mean it, Lydia.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes at his tone. “Stiles, seriously, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, but the worry is that you won’t be. Deaton keeps talking about the balance resetting itself. In Star Wars, resetting the balance was a very bad thing. Lots of people died.”

“This is real life!”

“Exactly! That’s even worse! Scott, stop!” He made a sort of squawking noise, for lack of a better term, as the phone was wrestled away. 

She could still hear him whining in the background when Scott’s calmer, but exasperated, voice took over. “Hey, Lydia, do you think you could talk about rescheduling the rest of the internship? Maybe come up with a family emergency?”

Lydia used her free hand to run her forehead. Yep, definitely a migraine. “I can try.”

“Please. I’m trying to call Derek and Mr. Argent, but cell phone reception has been spotty.”

“Yeah, here too,” she sighed. “This could all be nothing.”

“The news is downplaying it here in the States, but the rest of the world is going crazy. A lot of leaked videos and pictures. Last time I talked to Isaac he said the hospitals are overflowing. There are riots and mobs everywhere. Not in the isolated places, either, Lydia. I’m talking about Paris, London, Berlin. Everyone seems to agree America is ignoring the problem, pretending like it isn’t hitting here. But it is. Some of the bigger hospitals in L.A. are making people go through screening before they get in. My mom promised to come home when the first case gets diagnosed here.”

Stiles took the phone back over. “Dad and I are stockpiling everything in the basements of everyone’s houses. Winter is coming, Lydia.”

“I’ll get back as soon as possible,” she whispered, suddenly worried.

“I got those cans of lemonade you like. Listen, just in case, you have water and stuff, right?”

She blinked and thought of the practically bare cabinets and fridge she shared with the other interns. “Yes?”

“Stock up, buttercup,” he said, his voice overly cheerful, then he sighed. “If you can’t make a plane, we’ll come get you. I promise.”

“I know, Stiles. Just don’t bring your Jeep.”

“What’s wrong with my Jeep?”

“It’s a piece of crap,” Malia yelled in the background and Lydia smiled and said goodbye.

 

Lydia left Robert’s side, walking among the booths.

The buildings that had surrounded the commons had been gutted by fire for the most part, and their remains turned into trade booths. She mourned the pizza shop she had visited so often before the virus. Meanwhile the Commons had reverted to its original use, a place for livestock. 

She paused at a booth where a woman was offering quilted blankets. 

“Hello,” a voice said next to her and she glanced over to see a young man smiling at her. He stepped closer and looked at the blanket she was examining. 

“That’s pretty.” He looked up at the woman running the booth. “How much for it?”

The woman preened and smiled over-brightly. “I’m always willing to negotiate.”

Lydia handed it to him. “Enjoy.”

“No, wait, I meant-” He stopped, looking confused. “I was offering to get it for you.”

“No, thank you,” she said firmly and smiled at the woman. “Another time.” She turned and strode away.

“Wait a second!” He rushed to catch up with her and walked in step beside her. “I’m Ryder.”

“That’s nice.”

“This is usually where you tell me your name.”

“Why would I do that?” She summoned all of her ice queen past and gave him a short look and dismissed him.

“Well, for one thing, I’m the new security head,” he said as if that would grab her attention. “The council brought me in.”

Lydia nodded. “Good for you.”

He frowned. “I notice you don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

Lydia blinked and finally looked at him. “What does that matter?”

“There’s been talk of registering squatters that were stuck here when the system fell apart.” He looked her up and down. “Are you a squatter?”

“No,” Robert said suddenly, appearing at her side and raising a single eyebrow at her. “She’s my wife.” He produced his wallet and license. “We live a few streets over.”

Ryder narrowed his eyes at Robert and examined the license while Lydia frowned, first at Robert for his blatant lie and then at Ryder, an uneasy feeling settling over her. He was familiar somehow.

“And your license, Mrs. Simeone?”

“I lost it in the chaos,” she said easily, and it was unfortunately true. She had lost her purse when someone had looted the Schofield’s home while she had been out. She’d been staying with Robert ever since.

Ryder nodded. “Any proof that you’re his wife?”

“Besides my word?” Robert asked coldly.

“Yes,” Ryder said, smiling easily and Lydia suddenly recognized why he seemed familiar. He reminded her of Peter Hale. It wasn’t a thought that made her relax.

One of the stall owners called for Robert and he hesitated.

“It’s fine,” Lydia said softly and Robert moved away.

“He’s protective,” Ryder observed and she got that sense of foreboding again, and of recognition.

“It’s been a difficult winter,” she said simply and looked at him steadily. “I’m not from here, you’re right, but I belong here now. I help him run the clinic. I know you know he was lying. Listen, we may not have been married in the eyes of the law, but he and are all each other has. We lost everything else to the virus.” 

Ryder nodded slightly. “Most of us did. That’s why it’s so important that we rebuild what we can while we can. The winter was difficult, and those of us still here need to work together.”

“I run a clinic,” she shrugged. “Politics aren’t my problem.”

 

“What are you guys doing?” Lydia asked, a slight tremor in her voice as she stood on the platform, waiting for the transit system to get its shit together, hand gripping her suitcase tightly.

“Solar power,” Stiles said absentmindedly and she heard the rustle of papers she assumed were instructions. “It’s very confusing trying to set this up.”

“Stiles, you’re one of the smartest people I know, including myself,” she said fondly.

“Well, yeah, but still… confusing!” She could almost picture him waving his arms in the air.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“It’s cause I’m amazing,” he said cheerfully. “You at the airport yet?”

“No, waiting on the train. Plane leaves in just over two hours, so I have plenty of time. It’ll take me about twenty minutes to get to the airport from here. Want me to stop and get you some souvenirs?”

“Be right back,” he muttered, and she heard Scott acknowledge him. “Lydia, just… Please get home. This is getting scary.”

“I know,” she whispered, aware of people around her. “I keep losing signal on my phone, and they were talking about people not showing up for work in record numbers. Stiles, there’s a rumor they’re going to shut down the airports.”

He sighed. “Well, as long as you get on your plane first, and get home, I don’t care. Kira’s going to pick you up. I’ve been helping my dad try to keep things calm.”

“You?!” She laughed. “Dear God, he must be desperate.”

He huffed a laugh, and then sighed. “Actually, he kind of is.”

“How bad is it?”

“A couple of people called in sick. This thing moves fast.” He sighed again. “Listen, I know they’re talking about the airports, we’ve actually been watching that pretty closely. Mr. Argent and Isaac made it to New York, and they’re talking about a chance they might get stuck trying to find connecting flights. Apparently, there’s a pretty good chance one of us is going to be driving to Denver and back.”

“Thank God I’m flying non-stop. Just don’t-”

“-take my Jeep, yes I know,” he laughed. “I’m glad you’re coming home, Lyds. Not just because of the potential world-altering virus, but just… we’ve missed you, you know?”

“It’s cause I’m amazing,” she parroted back, her humor weak, and then sighed. “Listen, I’m going to try to find a transit cop, see what’s going on. This train is like ten minutes late, but it says it’s on time. Tell Kira I’m coming in on flight 2035, and I should get there about six-thirty. I’ll be the one with jet lag waving a red scarf and wearing a mask.”

He laughed. “All right. Be careful.”

“Yes, Dad.” She listened to his indignant protest with a grin. “Hey, Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you guys too.” She smiled. “Even you."

 

Unnatural darkness spread across the city as the moon covered the sun in the sky. Lydia struggled futilely at the ropes around her wrists.

“Scream,” Ryder ordered.

She smirked and channeled Stiles. “Did you know looking at the corona of the sun during an eclipse can blind you?”

Lyall snarled and moved towards her.

“I won’t do it,” she whispered, prayed, begged. “I won’t.”

“You will,” Lyall promised.

 

She leaned on the counter, tears in her eyes, her heart pounding in fear and anger. “This is not my fault! The trains stopped running, because there weren’t enough people to drive them! I had to figure out how to get here, and it took me forever!”

“Honey, there’s nothing I can do. The plane is gone.”

“Call it back!”

The woman at the counter sighed, obviously exhausted. “I can’t. The best I can do is try to get you on another flight, as standby. It’s no guarantee, but it’s the best I can do.” 

“How likely is it that I’ll get out of here?”

The woman, Carol, Lydia read off of her nametag, shook her head. “Honestly? It’s a freaking exodus here. People are taking any flight they can to get home, or to get out of the city.”

“So, not likely,” Lydia muttered.

“Listen, I’m putting you on the standby list for the next flight. It leaves in an hour, from terminal C. It’s the best I can do.”

“Fine,” Lydia said angrily and tugged her phone from her pocket. “Of course,” she muttered, glaring at the No Signal. 

She had to shove her way through people to get to the next terminal and slumped into a chair, glaring away anyone who tried to speak to her, sticking in her headphones and scrolling through the music on her phone after setting an alarm for when the plane was supposed to start boarding.

She didn’t realize something was wrong until the yelling pierced her headphones and people started getting out of their seats to approach the counter. With a sinking feeling she pulled out her headphones and looked to an older couple to her left, their heads bent as they talked lowly to each other. “Excuse me? I missed something.” She held up her headphones as an excuse.

They glanced at each other and then back to her. “They’ve cancelled all of the flights.”

“What? When? Why?” She started to stand and then saw the news on the television. Smoke billowed into the air from wreckage on the screen. Flight 2035 out of Logan, she read numbly, crashed with no warning. Reports were already coming in that the pilots had been feeling ill.

“I’m supposed to be on that flight,” she whispered, her words lost in the angry yelling of the people around her.

“Dear, are you alright?”

“I was supposed to be on that flight,” she said louder. “I’m supposed to be going home.” She looked down at her phone, still no signal. “Oh, God, they’ll think I’m on that flight.” The urge to scream began to climb in her throat.

“Breathe, dear,” she looked up to find the older woman smiling at her sympathetically, unshed tears in her eyes. “Where were you headed in California?”

“Just home,” she whispered.

“Our son and daughter both live out there, north of San Francisco. We were trying to get out to them.” She shrugged. “C’est la vie.” She peered at the mob and her husband came to her side, their bags in hand. “Have you somewhere to stay?”

“No. Yes.” She shook her head. “The school was renting me an apartment I was sharing with some others.”

“Come with us,” the woman said simply, as though it was the easiest thing to offer.

“Oh, I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“We have food, and a warm bed, and you need a place to stay until this blows over. We are happy to help,” her husband said, his voice rough with an accent she thought was eastern European. “It is a nice neighborhood, you will be safe.”

Lydia looked down to her phone again, the no signal taunting her. “Do you have a landline? I need to call my friends, let them know I wasn’t on the plane.”

“Yes, we do,” she said calmly, smiling at her. “My name is Mae Schofield. My husband is Avi.”

“I’m Lydia,” she said softly. “Lydia Martin.”

“You are welcome in our home, Lydia Martin,” May said gently.

The Schofield’s home was in the Beacon Hill district, and it made Lydia want to cry. She took it as what Deaton would call a good omen. Their home was a townhouse she was pretty sure she had walked past while playing tourist. They just laughed when she joked about it.

She went for their phone and sobbed when there was no dial tone. May held her and fed her dinner, promising she could stay as long as she needed.

She met Robert Simeone that night. He was their neighbor and just older than her. He was a medical student at Harvard and living with his parents, but honestly, medical student at Harvard was all she focused on, questioning him about the virus. He only shook his head, sighing that he didn't know much more than the news.

The news gave them nothing good, just explanations on power outages, phone outages, everything outages.

“Give it a month,” Avi said calmly, holding Mae's hand. “They’ll get this sorted, and everything will be back to normal.”

Lydia nodded when everyone else did, but she knew in the back of her mind that nothing would ever be normal again.

 

The chains were a bit much, she thought distantly, twisting her wrists back and forth experimentally. They barely moved and she snorted.

“What’s so funny?”

“Eichen House would be proud of your restraint system,” she said and then she snorted again. “Good God, I hope that place has burned down by now.”

“What’s Eichen House, Simeone?”

She rolled her head over and saw Ryder there and frowned. “You always reminded me of Peter. Something in the eyes. Robert didn’t believe me. He saw the good in everyone, the hope. He was like Scott that way.” She wrinkled her nose. “I kissed Scott once. Thank God we never mentioned it again. Stiles would have believed me about you. I knew you were the bad guy the moment I met you.”

“Did you? Do you have much experience with bad guys?”

“Too much.” She shuddered. “So very much.”

“Where do you come from, Lydia?”

“California,” she whispered.

“Where in California, Lydia?”

“I don’t like you calling me that,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, Simeone. It’s just, there are rumors, about you. You came here knowing an awful lot about how our world works. Why is that?”

“I had a best friend,” she whispered. “She was a hunter. And everyone around me wasn’t human.” She felt a tear leak from her eye. “I’m not even human.” She blinked at the image of Allison smiling at her over Ryder’s shoulder. “But it doesn’t make me a monster. My friend taught me that.”

“What are you? Hmm? Simeone, I need you to answer me, sweetheart. What are you?”

“I’m something,” she whispered and then she fell into the dark, imagining Allison humming lullabies in her ear. 

“Wake up, Lydia!”

Her eyes flew open and she realized her throat was raw. They were gathered around her, staring down at her.

“Banshee,” someone whispered.

“Honor!” She jerked against her restraints. “Someone, please! Honor! She’s in trouble.”

“Yes, she is!” Lyall crowed, and Lydia tilted her head enough to see him, his hand at Honor’s throat, claws digging into her neck.

“No,” she whispered. “Please.”

“I know what you are, now, Lydia,” he sneered and he shook Honor slightly. “Is it her death you saw?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Next time, you’ll answer my questions, won’t you?”

Lydia frowned as Ryder stepped into her field of vision. “Please, Ryder.”

Ryder shook his head and she closed her eyes, trying to block out the sounds of the woman’s death, and the feel of the spray of her blood landing on her face.

“Burn the body.” Ryder said disdainfully, from far too close to her. “Next time, you’ll answer my questions.” He set his hand on her cheek. “But now that I know for sure, you’re going to be very useful to me.”

And she listened to him outline his plan on how to become immortal, and how one of the key components was the scream of a banshee.

 

“Tell us the one about the archer,” one of the boys called out. “Tell us about how she saved all of her friends!”

“No, she just told us an Allison story,” one of the girls complained. 

“Tell us about the sheriff and his son, Stiles, the thinker with the baseball bat,” Alexis asked, her eyes wide. “Please!”

Lydia laughed delightedly and handed out the small pastries Merry had made for dessert. 

There had been a partial eclipse earlier, and she had constructed boxes for them all to watch it, and explained what exactly the eclipse was.

Now, after dinner, the fire was roaring in the fireplace, trying to beat off the chill of fall. 

“What about the fox, Kira? I like her!” One of the girls said, gesturing to the fox charm on Lydia’s necklace. 

“Simeone,” Merry said as she entered with the last tray. “There’s a boy at the back door asking for you.”

Lydia nodded, her smile slipping. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

The children groaned but she ignored their disappointment and pulled on a sweater as she moved through the kitchen to the backdoor. She didn’t recognize the boy but he straightened after his eyes darted to her necklace. “Ma’am?”

“Yes?”

He hesitated. “We hunt those who hunt us.”

She smiled very slightly. “We protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

He nodded, relieved. “There’s a new moon coming, next week. We can take five children, two adults.”

“So many?”

“We’re taking advantage of the moon.”

She nodded. “I’ll have them ready.” She frowned. “Are you hungry?”

“Always,” he said with a shrug, but was grateful as she handed him some bread and roasted pork, and then dashed away into the night.

She walked back into the living room and counted in her head who would be leaving the next week. She gave Merry and Penny a reassuring smile and then went back to her seat at the head of the table. “Okay, I’ve got one. It’s about a boy named Jackson who becomes a dragon and how his friends try to change him back.”

The children cheered.

 

Scott sighed, forcing himself to keep smiling at the visiting emissaries from the different packs and covens that were visiting the neutral ground of the state park. The start of winter was heavy in the air, and the first snow was expected any day. Most groups were already packing to leave.

“She’s on her way now,” Kira said reassuringly, holding his hand.

Scott smiled at his wife and nodded. He looked over to Stiles, and sighed softly as his friend just stared into the fire and only nodded along with whatever the people nearest him were saying. “Any word from Malia and Derek?”

Kira shook her head. 

Moments later three women swept into the small building and nodded at Scott. “Alpha.”

“Crone,” he said softly, respectfully, to the speaker.

The woman’s eyes wandered over everyone in the room and then she nodded. “We’ve reviewed the agreement, and consider it acceptable. If all goes well, the next time we meet, we may expand it.”

Scott nodded, trying not to show his relief. They needed this trade agreement desperately. “I thank you for your time.”

“Your emissary is sad,” the crone said and her voice carried. Stiles glanced up but didn’t move otherwise. “Your territory has gained quite a reputation for supernaturals and human living together peacefully and happily. We’ve heard its name spoken like a prayer across refugees lips.”

Scott really smiled at that. “I’m glad. We wanted to inspire people to come to us. We’ll help anyone we can.”

“You have hunters living with you as well.”

“We do. They help keep the peace.”

“The hunters living with you are Argents. Out of curiosity, were any of them in Massachusetts when the world fell apart?

Stiles was at his side a moment later. “Sorry, but what’s that about Massachusetts?”

“Rumors, that’s all. There’s a survivor's community in Boston, and apparently, they’re run by a monster. Some say he’s a supernatural monster. But there’s a woman there who occasionally is able to smuggle people out to safer areas. She goes by the name Simeone, and her network? It’s called the Silver Railroad. Argent means silver.”

“Yes,” Scott said softly, remembering. “We know what their name means.”

Stiles shook his head, deflated. “Sorry, no one we know.”

“Wait,” Kira said with a frown. “That was very random. Why ask us that?”

The crone smiled slightly. “Because I have visions. Sometimes, when I look at people, I see hints of their future or the past.”

“Did you have a vision about us?”

“Not exactly. When I looked at you, Alpha, I saw a girl with a bow and arrow, a hunter, but she is the past.” She looked at Stiles and frowned. “When I looked at you, though, I saw red yarn in lines that criss-crossed each other, and a definite feeling that I was seeing some part of your future.”

Stiles blinked. “Seriously?”

“Does that mean something to you?”

Scott thought of a few months ago when Stiles had described a vivid dream of Lydia, asking them to come save her. He had woken up holding red yarn, but had no idea where it had come from. He frowned at Stiles and then at the crone. “You’re sure it was red yarn?”

“It’s funny you ask, actually, because just before the vision faded, it looked like it turned from yarn into hair. And I saw a girl with that color of hair, standing near Fanueil Hall, in Boston. I recognized it from a vacation many years ago.”

“Was she a strawberry blonde maybe?” Stiles asked shakily.

The crone tilted her head at them, consideringly, and then nodded gravely.

 

 

Robert and his friends were conversing in hushed but worrying tones.

“Alexis, go upstairs and check on Skylar, will you? She’s in the Stilinski room.” Lydia asked quietly. 

Alexis nodded and hurried up the stairs. 

“What’s going on?”

“Ryder and his gang had a coup,” Robert said softly. 

“Oh God,” Lydia whispered. “Jones and the council?”

“No one’s heard from them. It was quick, and the rumor is, it was bloody.”

Lydia leaned back against the wall, horrified. Then she saw the guns in the other men’s hands and she straightened. “What is this?”

“He’s a bully,” one of the men said angrily. “They’ve got to be stopped.”

“They just murdered ten men,” she hissed. “What are you going to do?”

“We’re going to stop them. They’re going to turn everything into a dictatorship. We didn’t survive the virus and the winter just to bow down to men like them.”

“They aren’t like you,” Lydia said angrily. “They’re monsters. They’re going to tear you apart.”

“If I don’t go now, and try to stop this, then I’m the monster,” Robert whispered, then cupped her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. It was chaste, but it broke her heart. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she whispered. It was something that depressed her more than anything, because she cared for him, she really did. But her heart had been broken for a year and a half now, and no matter what happened, she didn’t think she could love again, not yet.

“And you know I’ll come back to you if I can?”

“I know.” She held his hand tightly. “I’m glad I met you. Of all of the people I could have met when the world went to Hell, you were the best.”

He grinned and nodded. “True.”

“Robert,” she said desperately, grabbing his arm as he pulled away. “What if I told you that you were going to die if you do this?”

His step faltered and he frowned very slightly. “Lydia.”

“Because I’ve been feeling it all day, that something very bad is coming.”

Robert hesitated and then sighed. “It’s a chance I’ll take.” When she opened her mouth he kissed her quickly. “Just stay inside, okay? And keep everyone away from the windows, just in case.” He accepted the rifle he was handed and smiled at her one last time.

“Stiles, we’re each other’s tether,” she whispered, watching Robert walk away. “Please, please, come find me.” She closed her eyes and reached, the same way she had tried to tap into the voices. “Please, come find me. Or I’m going to die.”

The silence was deafening, Lydia thought, standing on the roof at dawn and looking out towards the Commons and the State House. There had been a lot of gunfire from that direction the night before, lasting into the morning.

She had hid herself in the basement overnight when she felt the scream coming, and then she wept because she knew Robert was dead.

 

Three thousand miles away, Stiles Stilinski woke up screaming Lydia’s name and clutching a red piece of yarn that had appeared from nowhere.

 

“What if we have a boy?” Robert asked, his hand on her stomach.

She snorted. “I’m only a couple of days late. Stress, malnutrition, there could be a lot of reasons.”

He was silent a moment and then he grinned against the back of her neck. “But what if it’s a boy?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured. “What do you think?”

“You pick,” he said simply. “I’ll pick the next one.”

“If it’s a girl, Allison,” she said softly. “Allison Mae.”

He hummed in agreement behind her. “And a boy?”

She turned in his arms and smiled at him. “Stiles Scott Avi Simeone.”

He blinked. “What kind of name is Stiles?”

“It was a nickname,” she said softly, and her heart hurt. “His real first name was unpronounceable,” she joked.

“What was his last name again?”

“Stilinski,” she grinned at the look on his face. He had always had difficulty pronouncing that one.

“Did you know his first name?”

“Yes,” she whispered, thinking of tipsy late nights.

“Did you love him?” When she just smiled sadly, he brushed her hair out of her face. “Do we have to name all of our kids after the dead?”

She shook her head. “Just the girl.”

“What makes you so sure?”

I’d scream, she thinks. Even after all this time, she thinks she would know, and her scream would last for days. “Where I come from, it makes us into survivors. And they were always better at it than me.” She snorted softly. "All I ever wanted was to be able to escape that place and now I'd do anything to get back there." 

He frowned. “You sound like you had an interesting life, once upon a time.”

“Once upon a time,” she murmured and smiled. “A real Grimm fairy tale.”

“Lydia?” He whispered. “If you want, when spring comes, we can go west, try to get you back to them.”

She smiled at him brilliantly. “I wish it was that easy. The world is a dangerous place now, Robert.”

“Yes, I know,” he said wryly. “But you can’t listen to some travelers stories and think they’re all true.”

“They’re true,” she said firmly and smiled at his frown. “Believe me, Robert. Skylar? Those stories? They’re just a drop in the bucket.” She leaned over and kissed him. “We’re safe here, and as happy as possible, and we have purpose.”

He shook his head slightly. “They must wonder about you. They must worry.”

She smiled sadly. “Lydia Martin died in a plane crash. That’s what they think. And I wish them every happiness, but my home is here, with you.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” he laughed, his hands tickling her sides. His fingers danced over an old scar and she didn't even flinch. 

She got her period two days later, and he promised that when it happened, Stiles Scott Avi Simeone would be very welcome.

 

Robert came in the doorway and shook snow from his coat. “It’s still going strong.”

Lydia nodded, not looking up from the mortar and pestle she had found in a health store. “It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon.”

He hesitated, leaning in the kitchen doorway. Lydia looked up at him and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m re-opening a clinic that’s a block over. It wasn’t looted as badly as some places, and almost everything is still intact. The council that’s in the State House approached me about it.”

Lydia snorted. “A bunch of paralegals do not a city council make.” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “Oh, God, I sounded like Stiles just then.” 

Robert smiled at her. “Who’s Stiles?”

Lydia froze for a moment and then went back to crushing the dried out flowers.

He took the hint. “So, I saw the bags of concrete mix out there. What are you doing?”

“I’m going to mix it, this, and mountain ash together and line the outside of the house with it.”

He leaned close enough to frown. “What is it?”

“Wolfsbane.” 

“What?” He blinked at her like maybe he thought she was crazy, and she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, because, God, she missed her friends.

“Tell me about your clinic?”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Most people have grouped together to survive. The council is trying to set up some form of civilization again, but it’s slow work. They think having a clinic will help add stability.”

“Logical,” she said simply.

“I want you to come help me run it.”

She looked up, startled. “What?”

"You practically run this place. You've taken in every woman and child who needs a place. You call it The Beacon, and they see it as hope. They trust you. You'd be perfect." He sighed at her. “I need someone capable, someone who can learn the medications, someone who can help me find alternatives when the pharmaceuticals run out.”

“Me?”

“You had an internship at M.I.T.,” he said dryly. “I figure you’re a pretty good choice.”

“You barely know me.”

He nodded solemnly and then came over and jumped up onto the counter. “So, let’s get to know each other. We’ve been living under the same roof for five months, it’s probably time,” he joked.

She just blinked at him. “What do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “What’s your favorite color? What were your ultimate life goals? Did you have a special someone back home?”

She snorted. “Really?”

He shrugged.

She sat down the pestle and considered him for a moment before she nodded once and jumped up to sit on the counter as well. “Alright. Green. Field’s Medal. Not really.”

“Not really?”

She rolled her eyes. “I had… friends… like you wouldn’t believe. We would die for each other. And one of them, he was… more. But nothing ever happened. I kept putting it off because it didn’t seem like the right time.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

She smiled. “The first few months, even though they all think I’m dead, I kept expecting them to just appear here, to take me home. I promised myself that if they did, that if I ever saw him again, I’d kiss him. Just to know what it really feels like.” She sobered. “But I died, as far as they’re concerned.”

“That sucks,” he said seriously, and she laughed instead of crying. “Did he ever make you think he liked you too?”

“He loved me,” she said with certainty. “Maybe he wasn’t in love with me, but he loved me. We went through hell together, a few times. That makes you the kind of close that doesn’t fade easily. He had a crush on me for years but I never even noticed him. By the time I did, he was with someone else. Even after they broke up, though, it didn’t feel right. It felt like there was always something about to happen that would have stopped us.”

“Did you love him?”

“Yes,” she said and smiled. “And I always will. He’ll be my great unknown.” She grinned. “We should all have one great unknown love, that only ends being unknown when we fall so deeply in love with someone else that we can think of them and smile instead of weep.”

He hummed in agreement. “Susan Abel. I think someday I could think of her and not be sad that we fell apart.”

She blinked at him and smiled. “To Susan Abel and Stiles Stilinski. May they have long and beautiful lives.”

He grinned back at her. “And to us.”

She nodded. “To us.”

He slipped down from the counter and helped her land steadily, then held her hand for a long moment. “Come help me in the clinic?” 

Lydia nodded. “I can do that." 

 

 

Lydia stepped into the bustling kitchens, ignored by the slaves that kept their heads down. She had bathed specially for this, using an apple-scented soap to throw off anyone who might think they knew her scent. She dodged the slaves carefully, not looking up, and managed to dose the soup, wine, and the tea pitchers.

Then she slipped back out of the kitchens just as carefully, going to the medical ward and helping there.

She’d been there a little over an hour when Ryder strode in, moving straight towards her. “I didn’t know you would be here,” he said pointedly.

She glanced up at him and then down again and continued to wrap the burn on the slave’s arm as though she hadn’t even noticed him. Finally, she sighed and after giving the girl instructions she glared at him. “I’ve never given you notice before that I’m coming. What’s so different this time?”

He fidgeted for a moment. “I thought, maybe, you had changed your mind.”

“Changed my mind?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know I want you here, all of the time, Simeone.” He swallowed. “Lydia.”

She blinked. “I’d ask if you’re drunk, but you can’t get drunk.” She moved away from him to another slave. “I haven’t changed my mind, Ryder.”

“What do you want from me?”

She turned, the ailment behind her forgotten momentarily. “What?”

He moved to where he was towering over her and gave her what she almost thought was a nervous smile. “I’d give you almost anything. Name it.”

She stared at him, nauseous. “It’s never going to happen,” she said coolly and stepped back. 

“Is it because you think I’m a monster?” He frowned. “I could rein them in. I could… make things better… for people.”

“You don’t think they are people,” Lydia hissed. “You think they’re beneath you.”

“They are,” he said angrily. “We are the next evolution.”

“You are a monster,” she said angrily. “I don’t want you, Ryder. I never will. You could give them all their freedom, and bring all of your men to justice for all of their crimes, and I still would never want you.” She stepped forward, furious, and poked him in the chest. “You killed my husband, and who knows how many other men you’ve killed?”

“You don’t know the whole story,” he hissed, his eyes red now.

“No, I don’t,” she agreed. “But I’ve known wolves who mourned the way they are, who repented. I respected them for their choices. They didn’t do it for some obscene romantic gesture. They did it because they wanted to be good again.”

“Sometimes,” he whispered, “it’s too late to ever be good again.”

She shook her head. “That’s not true. I know that from experience. There is always hope.” She stepped back. “Not for you though, because you? You like watching people be afraid of you. You get off on the power trip. That’s what makes you a monster, not the bite.” She shook her head. “Go to your dinner. Have your power. Revel in it, because nothing lasts forever.”

Lydia turned away from him completely and began examining the rash on the boys chest in front of her.

Hours later, she wasn’t sure when, something large stumbled against the medical ward’s doors, making everyone stare at it in terror.

Lydia motioned to the desk. “I’m going out there. Block the door with this, just in case.”

“No, milady,” one of the slave girls whispered. “It’s not safe out there.”

Lydia smiled sadly. “It isn’t safe anywhere.” She ducked out of the doors and found one of the wolves wandering the halls, teetering into the walls. She moved swiftly for the stairs, alert, but everyone around her only seemed drunk or stoned and took no notice of her. 

She slipped the keys to the cells off of the wall easily and moved down the corridor, checking each door until she found the occupant she wanted. She blinked back tears and then slid the key in, turning it quickly. 

The occupant lay facing away from her, pretending not to notice the open door. 

“I’ve been hearing stories for a long time now,” she whispered, knowing he could hear her. “About a beacon in California. About monsters that prowl and keep the unworthy out. Have you met any monsters, Guardian?”

The Guardian looked up and his eyes flashed blue at her, and his lips were curled back from his fangs. “I am a monster.”

She smiled. “We’ll agree to disagree. Now come on, I dosed everyone’s meal with wolfsbane, and I don’t know how long we have. I’m here to get you out.”

 

“Are you Simeone?”

Lydia smiled kindly at the woman, but stayed carefully inside her threshold. “I am.”

The woman tilted her head and smiled brightly. “Did you line the house in mountain ash?” She laughed, seeming delighted. “And is that rowan wood in your windows?”

“You’ve come as an emissary from your people to speak to Ryder and his clan,” Lydia said diplomatically. “They reside in the State House, across from the Commons. You should be able to find them easily.”

“I already found them. It’s you I’m interested in.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you line your home in mountain ash, and rowan wood, and you help the helpless, and you answered the door ready to fight.” She smiled. “It’s a rare thing.”

“What do you want?”

The woman’s smile turned sad. “I’m not here to threaten you, Mrs. Simeone.”

Lydia simply raised her eyebrows.

“My friends and I have traveled to a lot of places in this world. A few of them mentioned you, and this place. They mentioned the Argent Railroad. You named your ward the Beacon.”

“It’s what this place was called, once.”

“Not exactly.”

Lydia shrugged.

“And they say you name the rooms in your ward.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Yes.” The woman stepped forward. “Tell me the names over the doors.”

“Go to Hell,” she said with a smile.

“Mrs. Simeone, please, tell me the names of the rooms,” the woman said, stepping forward again. 

“Have a good day,” Lydia said coolly, stepping back.

“My name is Maria Vegas,” the woman said quickly. “I’ve worshipped at a Nemeton. I’ve heard the wolves call in a California preserve.” The door began to close and her voice screeched out. “I need your help!”

Lydia paused and opened the door again. “My help?”

“Yes, please.” She had lost her smile and politeness, and there was wildness in her eyes. “Please, please.”

Lydia looked at the entourage. “Show me your eyes.” They all looked up at her, their eyes wide. She smirked. “Your real eyes.”

Maria deflated and then nodded at them.

Two of the three of the men had eyes that glowed yellow.

The third man shrugged at her. “I’m not a wolf.”

“What are you?”

“Abominable snowman.”

The words staggered her and she shrank back. The man blinked at her and narrowed his eyes. “You’ve heard that before.”

Once, Scott had told her the story. Stiles, as ever, had been sarcastic when in danger. It hadn’t really surprised her. 

Maria laughed, almost hysterically. “I knew it! He said he smelled someone familiar. He almost had a fit about it.”

“Who? What are you talking about?”

“One of my friends, my guardian, he’s been taken prisoner by Ryder. They said he was trespassing, and that he attacked one of Ryder’s men. That’s why I need your help.”

Lydia considered. “What’s his name?”

“Derek,” Maria said. “Derek Hale, formerly of the McCall pack.” She tilted her head at the sign above the door. “Do you know where the McCall pack is from?”

Lydia sighed, both elated and terrified. “I have a vague idea.” She stepped out of her door and reached into the brush along the house’s walls, pulling loose the piece of cinder she used to keep the mountain ash line in place. “You are welcome here, as my guests,” she said formally.

“We are indebted to you,” Maria said back, just as formal, but the relief in her voice was obvious.

They entered and Lydia asked Alexis to bring tea. 

Alexis brought the cups and teapot and Maria frowned. “This is reishi tea?”

“Is it?” Lydia blinked innocently. “Do you not like it?”

“Who are you?” Maria asked quietly. 

“Nobody special,” she said tonelessly and poured the tea. “Why are you here?”

“Derek-”

“No, not yet. First, tell me why you’re here, in Boston.”

“I think we came for you,” Maria said simply and nodded at the sharp look she gets. “My friends and I work with Derek occasionally. We’re from the Midwest, what used to be northern Missouri. Before everything, he wandered through occasionally. After, he helped us out with more violent things. Our people go a lot of places, and they hear a lot of stories.”

One of the male wolves gave her a sharp look. “Do you remember a woman named Skylar?”

Lydia hesitated a moment and then nodded. “I do.”

“She said you saved her life. You and your husband.”

Lydia couldn’t hide the shaking of her hands. “Is she alright? Is she happy?”

Maria smiled and nodded. “She is.”

Lydia nodded once. “I’m glad.”

“She settled with us after setting up your network, and told us about pretty horrible things happening here. She said you had a chance to get out, but you didn’t take it.”

“What does this have to do with Derek?”

“About six months ago Derek visited us. He talked about the McCall pack, the pack he’s a member of, sort of, it’s a confusing story.”

Lydia smiled slightly, remembering long ago days. “I’m sure.”

“He was staying with us, before continuing east, he said,” Maria said softly. “And Skylar was there.” She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Some of the names of the McCall pack were familiar to her. She couldn’t tell him the first name of the woman who saved him, because she didn’t know it. She just knew Simeone. But she could tell him about the necklace the woman wore, with a silver arrowhead and charms in the shapes of wolves and foxes and stars and what sounded suspiciously like an upside down tree.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Lydia said softly, her fingers drifting over the charms.

“Would Derek?”

Lydia ignored the question. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Derek has never once asked us to repay the favors we owe him. He asked to accompany us if we ever came this way. That’s all. So we let him. And when we walked into Ryder’s throne room, he picked up a scent he thought he recognized.”

Lydia sighed. “Then what happened?”

“Ryder and his men say he was trying to steal and then attacked one of them, almost killed him. So they took him prisoner and told us to get out of town.”

Lydia nodded. “Is Springfield still open this late in the year?”

Maria blinked. “Yes.”

“You should go there, restock your supplies. If he told you to leave, they’ll want you gone by sunset. You should get going.”

Maria stood quickly. “You insult me!” Her wolves growled and the human with them eyed them all warily.

Lydia stood more slowly. “Maria Vegas, it’s almost lunchtime. I can serve you that, but afterwards I’m afraid I have a lot of work to do in a very short time. After you eat, I ask that you leave.”

“You aren’t her,” Maria snarled. “You can’t be.”

Lydia slammed her hand down on the table and looked her in the eye. “Here’s something interesting. I have ten girls here that I care for. Ten girls that I have to make sure are protected and taught how to protect themselves.”

“Derek came looking for you!”

“Derek came looking for a dead girl! Lydia Martin is dead! She’s been dead for almost two years! And no one ever came to find her! No one!”

Maria stared at her. “I never told you her name.”

Lydia took a deep, shuddering breath. “What?”

“Lydia Martin. I never told you that name.”

Lydia looked away. “Can you take the girls with you?”

“I can’t take ten.”

Lydia closed her eyes. “I have three orphan children, but one won’t leave me. And I have a young girl…” She opened her eyes again. “She’s getting old enough to start turning into something not human. And I have a woman, twenty. She can control her change, most of the time.” She glared at Maria. “Can you protect them?”

“Can you save Derek?”

Lydia smiled sadly and shook her head. “You insult me. I planned to save him the second you said his name. But saving him means sacrifice, and it’s one I would happily make, but these girls? They need protection.”

“We will protect them or die trying,” Maria swore. 

She nodded and turned to the door. “Alexis.”

Alexis stepped in, looking mutinous. “I won’t go.”

Lydia sighed and smiled. “Who did you think I meant when I said one wouldn’t leave me? I’d try to convince you if I thought you’d go.”

Alexis shook her head. “I won’t go.”

Lydia grinned. “Get Nadia, Penny, Callie and Lois. Tell them to pack light, but take necessities.” She looked to the human. “Abominable snowman, go with them, make sure they understand what necessities mean.”

He nodded and followed Alexis out of the room.

Lydia turned back to Maria. “Have you met any other members of the McCall pack?”

Maria smiled slightly and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

Lydia nodded. “If I write a letter, will you pass it on, in case this doesn’t work out?”

“I will. I’ll deliver it to the alpha myself.”

“Then go to Springfield and wait for him there.” Lydia ordered gently and leaned into the hall. “Merry!”

Merry came into the hall, eyebrows raised.

“I need you start boiling a pot of water, please, and get our guests anything they need. I need to write a letter and then I need to run to the roof.”

“The roof?” Maria asked.

“Yes,” Lydia said shortly. “And when I come back down, your wolves should stay out of the kitchen.”

“Why’s that?” One of the wolves asked.

Lydia smirked as she headed for the stairs. “Stick around and find out.”

 

Lydia made her way back into the Simeone home, her backpack and two other bags full.

“Where have you been?”

She jumped, and then turned to glare. “Robert! You scared the crap out of me!”

“Yeah? Well, you scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t find you this morning!” He hissed, coming across the entryway towards her. He stopped, eyes on her bags. “What’s all this?” He blinked. “Are you looting? Seriously?!”

“No one else is going to be using this stuff,” she sighed and looked him up and down. “Honestly, I could use someone’s help to cut down on trips back and forth.”

“I’m not looting,” he hissed.

“It’s not looting, it’s survival,” she hissed back, then frowned. “And why are we whispering?”

Robert hesitated and she watched sorrow cross his face for a moment. “Avi’s sick.”

Lydia froze. “Sick?”

He nodded. “He’s packing a bag now to head to one of the centers. Lydia, Mae says she’s going with him.”

“She can’t. She’ll be exposed even more than she has already. It ups her chances. She could die in one of the centers.”

“She says she’d rather die with him, than live without him.”

Lydia shook her head and then stopped as the older woman walked down the stairs and smiled sadly at her. “You can’t.”

Mae nodded. “And yet, I will.”

Lydia shook her head. “You’ll die.”

“I’ve had a good, long life, Miss Martin, and almost all of it at his side. I can’t imagine not being at his side. I won’t leave him. Can you understand that?”

Lydia thought of Stiles shadowing her at Eichen House so long ago, refusing to leave her alone. She thought of sitting with Scott at the hospital before the nightmare of the nogitsune. She thought of Stiles sitting outside her hospital room for 48 hours straight before she even knew how much he meant to her. She thought of Allison.

“I can understand,” she whispered.

Mae nodded and turned as Avi came down the stairs, a medical mask fitted across his face. “Well, it’s time.” She handed Lydia a packet of papers. “It’s a letter stating that you have our permission to occupy our property until you’re able to return home or one of our children returns to occupy the home. I’ve also written a letter asking our children to let you remain here. I don’t think it will be something you need to worry about, but still, best to be prepared.”

“I can never repay you,” Lydia whispered, trying to cry. “You took me in.”

Mae smiled. “There’s something about you, Miss Martin. You don’t look like it, but I have a feeling you’re a survivor. I hope you have a long and happy life.”

“Thank you,” Lydia said, and held herself back from hugging either of them.

Robert nodded at them, tears in his own eyes. “Good luck, Aunt Mae.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Too many comics, boyo.” She smiled and nodded at Lydia. “Take care of her, yeah?”

“I will,” he promised solemnly.

And then they were gone.

Robert looked down at her bags, his eyes red. “What did you get anyway?”

“Stuff to build hydroponics,” she said numbly. “Stuff to help us survive winter.”

Robert nodded and sighed. “Well, it’s not looting, right? It’s survival?” He shrugged. “Let’s go get what you need.” 

 

Lydia opened her door before the men made it up her sidewalk. The men paused, glancing between themselves and at her. “Can I help you?”

Ryder stepped out of the small group and smiled at her as if in sympathy. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Lydia wrapped her arms around herself and frowned. “Are they all dead?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “They are.”

She nodded. “I told them not to.”

“I’ve come to offer my condolences, and to offer an arrangement.”

“Arrangement?”

“I could arrange for your life to be much easier, Mrs. Simeone.” He smiled and tilted his head at her. “It would require only your cooperation.”

“My cooperation? In your bed by any chance?” She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

He smiled tightly. “Don’t be so quick to reject my friendship.” He stepped forward. “I may not be very quick to offer it again.”

“I think I’ll manage on my own,” she said softly. “I would also like to insist that the clinic not be interfered with.”

“And why would I agree to that when you’ve been so rude to me?”

“Because I promise to help your people. It will be neutral ground, if you will.”

He frowned. “You realize I could send my men in and just take you by force.” He nodded at his second in command, Lyall, who sneered at her, his eyes flashing blue.

Lydia smiled grimly, and summoned all of the attitude she had in her. “I think you’ll find that more difficult than you imagine.”

“And what will you do?” Ryder taunted. “How can someone like you fight us?”

Lydia eyed them all, not letting an ounce of her fear show. “You were all bitten weren’t you?”

The men all looked at each other, but Ryder smirked. “And what makes you think that?”

“It’s harder for the bitten to contain their tempers,” she said softly and she smirked at Ryder. “Also, they tend to have more delusions of grandeur.” She turned and walked back into the doorway. “If you need me at the clinic and I’m not already there, you can ring the bell.” She pointed at the bell on the fence. “Someone will hear it and fetch me.” She waved. “Have a nice day.”

“You bitch!” Ryder charged up the sidewalk towards the door.

Lydia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, thinking of Deaton and focusing on believing. She had believed in them, and they had believed in her, and it warmed her, chasing away the grief.

When he began cursing loudly she opened her eyes to find him pressing against the mystical barrier, snarling, his eyes red as he glared at her.

She considered him and then sighed. “Were you bitten before the virus?”

He faltered, shutting up and stepping back. “What?”

“I’m not repeating myself,” she said angrily.

“The virus had begun,” he said awkwardly. 

“Did your alpha teach you control?”

“The alpha was sick, dying. I killed him and took his power.”

She nodded. “And he didn’t teach you much, did he?”

“No,” he snarled, but his eyes were brown again as he considered her. “What are you?”

“Just a girl,” she said softly and then frowned. “A widow, too, because of you. I will never harm anyone who comes to me needing medical attention. I swear it. No matter how neutral I am, though, Ryder, I won’t forget that you made me a widow.”

She closed the door.

 

“We’ll follow the river,” Derek said softly. “We have to be quick and quiet.”

The sky was brightening in the east. She frowned, seeing the river, only two blocks away. “You have to go without me.”

“What?!” He turned to her, shock on his face. “No way in Hell.”

“You didn’t expect to find me here. I understand that. You’ll tell the others?”

“I’m not leaving you, Lydia.”

“I’m not leaving these people. Ryder is a monster.” She smirked. “And we know monsters, don’t we?”

“I’ll kill him,” Derek snarled. “But I will not leave you.”

She smiled and held his hand for a moment. “Follow the river until you hit I-90, then follow the interstate. You’ll pick up your people’s scent.”

“Lydia,” he said quietly. “You are my people.”

She smiled. “I’ve missed you, too. I’m giving you no choice, though, because I sent some of my girls with Vegas, the youngest, most defenseless ones. So you’re going to leave me, and you’re going to protect them, because that’s my choice. Tell them that. Lydia Martin is alive, and she calls herself a healer now, and she won’t give up her people. Not any of them.” Her tears overflowed. “I won’t give you up either, Derek. So you have to go.”

“They’ll never forgive me.”

“Yes, they will. So, tell Scott to send someone to save my ass, but only if he can save everyone. Tell Stiles I cannot wait to hear his horrible one-liners and jokes, because they have made me laugh when there was absolutely no reason to.” She shrugged. “Tell them I’m something here, something real. And when you come back for me, because please God, come back for me, you have to save the women in the Beacon. I named it for them, for you, for who I used to be.”

Derek’s head came up, looking beyond her.

“What is it?”

“They’re ringing a bell. They know I’m gone.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, and felt a sudden urge to forget her plan and just go with him. “Yeah, go.”

“Lydia.” He looked at her seriously. “We’ll come back for you. We’ll build an army for you.”

“Tell them I love them, Derek. Now, go!”

He stared at her for a moment and shook his head, and then he was gone.

Lydia sniffled, feeling as though her chest was going to cave in from the pain. Then, she stood straighter and headed for home.

She made it a whole four blocks before they caught up to her.

“Simeone!” Someone shouted and she turned, smiling defiantly into Lyall’s face. “What have you done?”

“What I had to,” she whispered and held out her hands. “Am I under arrest?”

Lyall looked around the street. “Where is he?”

“Gone.” She gasped as Lyall surged forward, his hand crashing against her cheek. He wrapped his claws around her neck to keep her upright. She felt the snap of her necklace, and the clinking of her charms hitting the street’s pavement. “Go ahead. Kill me.”

“I never knew you had a death wish.”

“If I die, you die.” She smiled, tasting blood in her mouth. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you’re gonna die no matter what.”

“Yeah? What makes you think that?”

“I have felt the power of a Nemeton. I have played games with a Nogitsune. I have survived a bounty on my head, and faced monsters you can’t imagine. You think because you transform into a beast that it makes you something special? You are nothing.”

“And what are you?” Ryder said, appearing suddenly in her peripheral vision.

Lydia flicked her eyes to him and sneered. “I’m the bitch that put your men down and freed your prisoner single-handedly.”

“Yes, and that only adds more questions,” he said calmly. “Because you line your home to keep us out, and you know how to take us down. And you have never helped a prisoner of ours before. What changed?”

“I got bored sitting at home,” she drawled slowly. “Decided to revisit some sports plays I used to know.”

Ryder blinked. “What?”

“Have you ever played lacrosse?” She smiled demurely. “I haven’t honestly, but I used to date the captain of the team, and then some of my best friends played too, so I learned the names of the moves by default. I used a roll dodge. Fairly simple play that works once you’ve convinced the defender which way you’re going. See, I convinced you I was harmless, afraid, and neutral.” She sneered. “I’ve never been good at being neutral.”

There was a staggering pain and she rocked back on her heels. She stood straight and then blinked once, twice, and for a moment she thought she saw a girl, dark-haired, gentle and fierce, reaching for her, smiling at her encouragingly. She blinked again and the vision was gone and tears came to her eyes.  


Ryder was looming over her, sneer entrenched on his face. “You’re not a very good strategist. You betrayed your neutrality for an omega. He can’t help you, Simeone. No pack wants a wolf like that.”

“I once knew a pack that built itself from what people considered the weakest possible members,” she murmured. “It wasn’t true. The best packs, the strongest ones? They’re so much more than strong wolves. They’re family.”

“Take her to the cells,” Ryder ordered, and then grabbed her hair, wrenching her face towards him so hard he cried out. “You should have chosen me, Simeone. I would have protected you. You wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Lydia smiled. “I’m never alone,” she said strongly.

 

Lydia swung her crowbar as hard as she could and wrapped her hand in a towel to knock out the rest of the glass in the store front window.

There was snow on the ground a foot thick, and Robert was pulling a double-shift in the clinic so she was on her own today. 

There were no more police or guards or even owners to keep her out of places now. Every now and then she would spot someone in the distance, but she kept a pistol on her hip and her crowbar handy. Winter was almost over, and it had been hard, deadly to all but the best prepared.

This was a natural medicines store. Most of it would be useless she knew, but every little bit helped. The supplements along one wall would be the most useful. She moved over and began stuffing them in her bag.

She paused at a display of silver charms, and ran her fingers over them, pausing at one shaped like a wolf and another of a fox.

The distinctive voices whispered and she turned to frown at the door in the back of the room that looked like it led further back into the building. 

She spun towards the front door as she she heard the creaking of boots on broken glass.

“Hello,” Ryder said easily, leaning against the wall. “How are you?”

She frowned at him. “I’m fine. What do you want?”

He shrugged and sighed. “I’m sure you’ve heard looting isn’t allowed. There’s a fine, and a jail sentence.”

“I’m not looting,” she said tiredly. “I have the council’s permission to scavenge and gather any supplies I find for the clinic. Anything extra I find I can use for trade.”

“Ah,” he nodded, smirking as his eyes roamed the display of charms. “All right.” He watched her as she packed her bag with more supplements. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” It was asked more like a realization than curiosity.

“I’m not.” 

He hummed. “What’s the story with you and your so-called husband? You’re not in love with him.”

She sighed and glared at him. “He saved my life. What else matters?”

“I admire your loyalty. You could be taken care of much better though.”

“By you?” She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

“I know there are stories about me,” he said slowly.

“You mean the ones where you disappear every time there’s a full moon, or the ones where when you get angry, sometimes, your eyes look red, and sometimes they even look like they glow?” At his surprised look she snorted and turned away. “Stories don’t bother me.”

“They’re not true, of course,” he said quickly.

“You mean you don’t turn into a werewolf?” She turned to him and smirked. “Or do your eyes glow blue instead?”

He froze, staring at her.

She smirked. “I’ve heard the howls at night. I’ve seen you put men larger than you down too fast. You were listening to Robert’s heartbeat, in the Commons. It’s how you knew he was lying.”

He blinked at her. “How do you know all of that?”

“I’ve seen it done before,” she shrugged. “I pay attention.”

His nostrils flared for a moment and she raised her eyebrows as his confusion. “You’re not wolf.”

“I’m not,” she agreed and sighed very slightly. 

“So what are you?”

She smiled as someone outside called for him. “Have a nice day.”

He didn’t move. “You’re wasted on him.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure you know what loyalty means.”

He frowned but nodded. “You’re smarter than you look.”

She grinned over her shoulder at him. “Yes, I am.”

He left, shutting the door behind him.

She tugged her jacket tighter around her and waited several moments before moving to the door in the back. She passed through it and passed shelves full of stock that was gathering dust. The voices directed her to another door, and when she checked wasn’t locked. It swung open to reveal stairs down to a basement. She took a deep breath and shone her light around her as she descended. 

A corner of the room had been converted into a cell, and she was almost certain it had been designed to hold a werewolf.

See, the voices seemed to whisper. Use it.

Lydia’s heart sped up as she looked at the shelves around her. Powdered wolfsbane, mountain ash, all things she had seen Deaton keep stocked. She filled her bags with the jars and then turned towards the stairs.

Lydia, no, wait.

She turned back quickly at the voice, because for a moment it had been her mother’s and Allison’s, and Ethan’s all at once. 

There, the voices whispered and she moved through another door and stared as she entered a greenhouse.

Wolfsbane, several species, and mushrooms, and things she couldn’t identify all thrived, hooked up to a system that drained rainwater from the ceiling onto the plants.

“Jackpot,” she whispered and felt joy around her for a moment. “Thank you,” she whispered to the dead.

No one answered this time.

 

Lydia couldn’t sleep, hearing the chaos outside and feeling utterly useless. She paced nervously, flipped through her books and finally stood at her window and tried to see through the smoke. Figures seemed to shift in it, moving back and forth, though she knew she might be imagining it.

She jumped at the sound of gunfire below her window and backed away, whirling to the door as it slammed open and Ryder ran inside. 

He was covered in soot and sweat and he went straight for the closet, grabbing a backpack and shoving some of her clothes in it. “We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re under attack, and it’s time to go.”

“No.” Lydia blinked, as surprised at herself as he was, but she shook her head. “No, I’m not going with you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.” Lydia backed away. “And you should go. I’ll take my chances with whoever is out there.”

“You can’t say no to me.”

“I just did.” She squared her shoulders and grinned at him. “It was a new moon last night. That’s how they got in without you and your lackeys knowing. If you’re going to run, you should do it now.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“Says the man who thought he was a king. What were you before? A janitor? A drug dealer?”

He flushed. “What were you?”

“I was something,” she laughed, feeling slightly hysterical “I was a bitch, and a genius, and an extremely lucky girl who found a girl and couple of guys I never could have imagined myself becoming friends with, but I did. We became family, and the faces and the names changed, but we loved each other, regardless of anything else.” She sneered at him. “And they still love me enough that they set your world on fire.”

“You are mine,” he said angrily and reached for her.

She slapped his hand away and as he growled and lunged at her she began to fight back. She’d almost forgotten how, after all of this time. She opened her mouth and channeled all of the pain and death erupting around her and she screamed and fought. Parrish would have been proud.

By the time Ryder knocked her to the ground, she knew he was hurting too.

“I am not yours,” she yelled up at him as he kicked her over and over again. “I was never yours!” And she pulled every bit of power that she had into herself, and screamed.

He stopped and staggered back, eyes wild and face as pale as she’d ever seen him, blood leaking from his ears. He snarled, his eyes going red, and claws extending, and she closed her eyes, thinking fleetingly of a lacrosse field, a very long time ago. Someone had been calling her name.

A roar sounded and the building shook and somewhere beyond that sound, she heard her name.

She opened her eyes as a form slammed into Ryder, throwing him across the room. His protests were cut short by a scream like she had heard before, a few times. It was the sound of death.

She opened her eyes and Maria Vegas was leaning over her, concern on her face. “Lydia? Hey?” 

Lydia rolled her head to the side and saw Ryder on the ground, blood seeping into the carpet he was so damn proud of. It was splashed across his face too, and a coyote stood over him, watching her. 

Lydia winced more than smiled and looked back to Maria. “I was never his,” she whispered.

“I know. Come on.” Malia appeared next to her, tugging on a dress Lydia thought was probably her own. They helped her stand, and waited while she breathed deeply and bit back a cry at the pain lancing through her. They supported her between them and moved through the halls.

As they emerged into the daylight Derek appeared and swept her into his arms without a word. “You’re alive.”

“Thank you,” she whispered as he carried her.

Lydia wasn’t sure but she thought she must have blacked out because the next thing she knew they were handing her into a van. “No,” she said quickly, trying to pull back. “The girls!”

“We’re here,” a voice said quietly and she peered into the seats behind her to see Nina with her hand resting on her slightly rounded stomach. The women from the Beacon Hills ward were squeezed into the seats beside the pregnant woman. Alexis gave her an awkward wave from the very back.

“Who are they?” Alexis asked quietly.

Lydia looked away from the girls as the driver door opened. She blinked against the light and found Chris Argent sitting in the seat when her eyes adjusted to the light. She had to blink away tears and smiled. “They’re my family. My knights in actual shining fucking armor.”

Chris grinned at her very slightly and bowed his head. “Queen Lydia.”

The van began to roll along the road, a part of a caravan holding other survivors. And for the first time in years she fell asleep without a worry.

 

 

“Lydia!” She looked up from her reading as one of the young boys ran in. “Robert needs you! He says there’s something wrong with one of the girls.”

Lydia glanced out at the sun moving steadily towards the horizon and frowned as she stood and moved to grab the cast iron skillet out of the cupboard. “Where is he?”

“In the pediatrics ward. There’s a girl. Robert said she’s acting really weird. He can’t get her to calm down.”

Lydia frowned and rushed across the street. She heard the yelling before she got there. 

“No, you don’t understand, you have to let me go! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Skylar, just breathe. You have to calm down.”

Lydia rounded the corner and found Robert and one of his recruited nurses trying to hold down a girl not much younger than them.

“Robert?!”

He looked over his shoulder at her and nodded for her to come closer.

“Skylar, this is Lydia. Remember, I told you about her. She won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about you hurting me! I don’t want to hurt you!” She threw her arm out and the nurse flung away, catching herself before she slammed into the wall. 

“Let her go!” Lydia yelled.

Robert looked at her, incredulous.

“Let. Her. Go.” Lydia stared at him until he stepped back.

“She’s sick. It just came on today. Fever, sweating, dizziness. She won’t admit to any other symptoms though, even though I keep telling her that we are trying to help her.”

“She doesn’t want your help, Robert. Now get out.”

Robert stared at her. “What?”

“You sent someone for me, to come help.”

“Yeah, because I thought she was scared to be alone with men, not so you could come in and order me around. This is my hospital.”

“Robert, listen to me very carefully. We don’t have time to argue. Now get out.” She looked to the girl. “Is that alright with you?”

The girl shook her head. “None of you understand.”

“I do,” Lydia said quickly and took a step towards her, past Robert, and reached up to her necklace, holding it up for the girl to see, specifically the wolf charm. “I think I do, anyway.”

The girl stared at her and then nodded rapidly. “She can stay. Please.”

Robert threw his hands in the air and in the back of her mind she realized he was going to very upset with her later, but she only worried about that for a moment, rushing to the girl’s side as soon as the door shut behind him. “Can you control it?”

“I haven’t been able to since this all started. I’ve been locking myself up in the basement, but your people found me and insisted I come here, so I’d be safer.”

Lydia handed her her clothes and looked urgently outside, then cursed at the sun so low in the sky. “We have to hurry.”

“Where can I go?” The girl sobbed. “I’ll never make it home in time. Please, I don’t want to hurt people.”

Lydia turned towards her from the window. “Will you trust me?”

The girl smiled shakily. “You’re the first person I’ve seen that understood. Yes, I’ll trust you.” 

Lydia smiled. “Close your eyes.”

Her eyes shut instantly, her brow scrunched in confusion. “But why-” She grunted as Lydia swung the cast iron skillet as hard as she could, connecting it with her skull, and she crumpled to the ground.

“Robert!” Lydia yelled, rolling the girl over. He came into the room and stared. “I need your help!”

“What happened to her?”

“I knocked her out, now get over here and help me!”

“What are we doing?”

“We’re carrying her down the block to the natural medicine store.”

“What?” He knelt and stared at Lydia. “How is that going to help?”

“Listen, I will happily answer all of your questions, once we have her there.”

“How am I supposed to explain?”

“Just pick her up,” Lydia said angrily. “If she wakes up before we get there, we are going to be in trouble.”

He hesitated another moment, then scooped the girl into his arms and followed her out of the room. Two nurses stared at them as they passed but said nothing.

“Come on, come on,” she hissed, unlocking the door and rushing in, rummaging through the jars she had locked up. She grabbed the one she wanted and rushed to the basement door, holding it open for Robert to carry her down. 

Robert froze, his eyes going around the room. “What is this place?”

“Do you want the truth or the crazy sex theories?” Lydia asked as she unlocked the chains and motioned for him to bring the girl over.

“Lydia, is this right?”

“Only if you want to respect her wishes,” Lydia said softly and then sighed as he just stood there. “Robert, bring her here.”

He did and set the girl down. 

Lydia didn’t waste a moment, securing the chains around her tightly, remembering plenty of instances when the boys had thought the chains were tight enough but weren’t, so she made them even tighter.

“Skylar,” she whispered, setting her hand on the girls cheek. “I’m going to stay right here with you, okay?”

“Lydia, please tell me what’s going on?”

Lydia sighed and sat back, then stood and began spreading the mountain ash around the perimeter of the room.

“Lydia?!”

“Shut up for a minute, Robert.” She took a deep breath. “You know the stories. We’ve talked about them.”

“Oh, God, please don’t try to tell me this crap,” he muttered, sitting heavily on a folding chair in the corner of the room. “She needs medical help, and possibly psychological.”

Lydia looked out the small window at the top of the room. “In a little while, you won’t think it’s crap.” She turned to face him. “And I’m sorry for that.”

Two minutes later Skylar woke up.

Robert left the basement a believer.

Lydia stayed.

 

They stopped just outside of what had been Buffalo, New York. Derek explained they had a few allies here and would stay the night because everyone was exhausted, and would refuel in the morning. Once they started driving again the next day he only intended to stop when they reached California. Lydia only nodded.

They set up camp in an old state park, and Malia almost immediately turned into a coyote again, dashing into the forest. She would call, Derek explained, when she caught dinner.

Lydia didn’t speak much, rubbing her arms to try to keep warm. She felt uneasy stopping and when she mentioned it to Maria the woman smiled sympathetically and only reassured her she was safe. Lydia couldn’t shake it though, and when Derek stood up abruptly from the campfire he had started the other two wolves started growling.

In the distance a howl was cut short.

Lydia sighed while the girls tensed and murmured around her. She stood, hearing the distant whispers that came from being her. “It’s all right.”

Derek turned to her, eyes narrowed.

She smiled. “You tried. And it’s my own fault.” She shrugged. “I forgot to take his head.” 

Malia stumbled into the clearing, covered in blood, Lyall at her back, his clawed hand around her throat, his eyes shining brightly. Shapes emerged from the darkness around them as Derek snarled and transformed, his eyes glowing red.

“Don’t,” Lydia said sharply as Derek snarled and stepped towards Lyall. “Please, don’t.” Her eyes cut to Chris, who was subtly reaching for his bag and she shook her head. “You’re outnumbered.”

Derek hesitated and a sharp laugh echoed in the clearing as Ryder stepped out of the darkness. “You listen to her. That’s interesting.” His eyes slid to her. “Simeone, they do know you. And here I thought you were all alone.”

“I’ve never been alone, even when I’ve been all by myself,” she whispered and smiled wryly. “Which is funny, because you’re surrounded and you’ve never been lonelier.”

“What did I say about that tongue of yours?” He said warningly.

Lyall tightened his grip on Malia’s throat and the girl shrieked low in her throat. 

“I’m sorry,” Lydia said quickly, stepping forward. “I’m sorry.”

“Better,” Ryder said softly, and he looked around the small campsite with a sneer. “Did you really think you could take what’s mine?”

“No,” Chris said simply, standing, pistols in both hands. “Because I don’t see anything here that’s yours.”

“A hunter? Here?” Ryder glanced at Lyall. “On the side of the monsters you’re supposed to be hunting?”

“I’m an Argent,” Chris said coolly. “Do you know what that means?”

Lyall snarled. “He might not, but I do.”

“Let them go,” Lydia said softly, hating herself for the tears leaking out of her eyes.

“I don’t think I will,” he said, grinning. “See, even if they hadn’t humiliated me, you apparently need a lesson. You will never defy me again, Simeone.”

“I’ll kill you,” Derek sneered.

“I’m immortal,” Ryder laughed. “You can’t kill me.”

 

 

Lydia stared down at her plate, ignoring the laughter around her as she pushed the food around on her plate.

Winter had come again and with his immortality had also come a cruelty she hadn’t imagined even Ryder capable of. 

People were dying or running in record numbers.

Her only consolation was that no one had figured out how to get into the Beacon Hills ward yet. She liked to imagine Alexis and the others were safe and able to provide for themselves well enough. She knew they had the greenhouses and canned goods, but she still worried.

Every so often someone would go into the building for medical care. They would solemnly tell her in whispers that everyone was fine, but she didn’t know how to believe them when they could be plants by Ryder.

“Milady?” One of the slaves handed her a cup of wine, never once looking up.

“Thank you, Nina,” Lydia said softly, her eyes on the girl’s stomach. “Are you feeling well?”

Nina glanced at Ryder who nodded gravely, then looked back to Lydia, smiling slightly. “We’re fine, milady. I think I felt him kick the other day.”

“I’m glad,” Lydia whispered. 

“Milady, when it’s time, will it be you helping me?”

Once, Lydia would have agreed immediately, but now, after weeks of abuse, she hesitated.

Beside her, Ryder sighed. “She will. Nothing will make her happier, will it, Simeone?”

Lydia nodded quickly, and smiled at Nina. “If you need me.”

Nina nodded.

The next morning Lydia walked into the small medical unit and found Nina waiting for her. “Are you all right? Is there something wrong?”

Nina hesitated and glanced at the guards by the door. “You protect those who cannot protect themselves, yes?”

Lydia blinked and forced her heartbeat not to change. “Sometimes, we hunt those who hunt us.”

Nina nodded and smiled, her voice low. “Did you know that sometimes there are two new moons within a month, just like blue moons?”

Lydia shook her head. “I didn’t.”

Nina nodded. “It’s called it a black moon.” She smiled kindly. “There’s one in two months.”

Lydia nodded, taking a deep breath so she wouldn’t cry. “If you can, tell them they have to take his head. He can’t be immortal without a head. Just be careful, Nina. ”

Nina smiled. “You too, milady.” She reached forward and pressed something into Lydia’s palm. It bit into her skin, but she was too busy staring at it. Her necklace. The charms were gone, but the sharpened silver arrow was still there. “They said it was yours.”

“It is,” she whispered and smiled, tears in her eyes. “Thank you.”

 

 

“I’m immortal,” Ryder laughed. “You can’t kill me.”

“Can’t be immortal without a head,” a new voice echoed into the clearing, a growl under the words, and Lydia sobbed before she turned.

Scott McCall was an adult now. She knew, naturally, that he would be. She hadn’t seen him in over three years. But the reality of it was somehow almost too much for her to take. For a moment all she could see in her mind was Scott, Stiles, and Allison dressed for the formal during their sophomore year, so young, so innocent to what they were in for. 

Kira stepped up next to him, katana in hand and a small smile for Lydia on her face. Scott stepped forward, his eyes bright red. “I had a friend pass that message along.”

Lydia couldn’t help the half-hysterical giggle that escaped her as she saw others coming up behind him. She doesn’t recognize most of them, but she saw Isaac and Liam. She saw more wolves, eyes blue and yellow, and she saw people who she wasn’t sure what they were, but they were at his back.

For a moment she imagined a dark-haired archer standing with them.

We’ll build an army, Derek had said and damn, he’d been right.

“Who the Hell are you?” Ryder yelled, fury etched on his face.

“My name is Scott McCall, I’m the alpha of the McCall pack.”

Ryder blanched. “The McCall pack? From California? What are you doing here?”

Scott smiled, but it was more ominous than anything. “We came for her,” he said loudly. “And we aren’t leaving without her.”

“What the hell is she that all of you would come here?”

“She’s pack,” Scott said coldly. Then he stepped forward and growled, the sound echoing through the forest. Around them, the sound was echoed by the others. “I doubt you’d understand.”

Ryder backed up a step. “Lyall?”

Lyall was darting his eyes around, and growling lowly in his throat. “Boss?”

Ryder looked at all of them and settled his eyes on Lydia. “It’ll be a bloodbath, Simeone. Do you want that?”

Lydia hesitated, glancing at Scott and Kira who had gone still and were looking at her. Scott was shaking his head very slightly. She looked back to Ryder. “You’ll take me and you’ll let them go?”

“No,” came several voices at once. 

“Lydia,” Scott called. “Please.”

“Shut up, Scott.” There was a rustle of movement and Lyall tightened his grip on Malia and Lydia held up her hand to stop anything very dramatic from happening. “Don’t, Scott.”

“Lydia, Stiles isn’t here.” The words hit her like a sledgehammer, because she noticed, of course she had noticed but she turned to him, tears in her eyes, and he read the question there. “He’s alive. Do you have any idea what it did to him thinking you were dead? He lost his mind.”

“I lost mine too,” she whispered. 

“He got so drunk that first night and do you know what he told me? He told me he was never going to be over you. He could be with someone else. He could be happy. But in the back of his head, it was always going to be you. Then, last year, he dreamed of you. He dreamed you were asking him to come after you, to find you.”

“I tried calling to him, with the voices,” she whispered.

“He went north a few months ago, looking for allies, to finally come look for you. I sent messengers when we heard from Maria, Lydia. He never gave up and now he’s going to know you’re alive, and you can’t send me back without you. You’re his tether. His red string.”

“Red means unsolved.”

“Except we solved it. You’re alive,” Scott said, and he was begging now, his eyes brown again, as he stared at her.

Lydia ignored them, staring at Ryder and took a step towards him. “Do you remember the day I met you and Robert told you I was his wife and we were all each other had?”

Ryder nodded, perplexed.

“I was wrong. I was never alone, Ryder.” She waved over her shoulder at Scott and the others. “The truth is, they’re my family. They have been since a very weird series of events in my sophomore year of high school, and they came for me, across hundreds of miles, but to be honest, they never left me in all the time I endured your Hell. I will go with you if you swear to me that not a single one of them will be harmed. If you lie to me, though, Ryder, if you lie, nothing will save you. Trust me. You think you have power? I have a fox and wolves and a druid and a coyote and an abominable snowman waiting to tear you apart.”

“What you want? It won’t affect just you, Lydia,” Scott said, desperation in his voice.

She smiled at him. “Scott, shut up, and just listen, will you?” She turned back to Ryder and nodded. “Ryder? Will you let them go unharmed?”

He licked his lips, glanced at Lyall, looked back to her and nodded.

“Say it,” she ordered.

“I’ll let them go.”

Every wolf on her side growled.

“He’s lying,” Derek snarled.

“Yeah, I know,” Lydia said, almost sadly. “I’d rather die in a bloodbath with them, than live without them at your side.” She turned her back on Ryder and looked at her girls. “Run.” 

Everything dissolved in that moment. The girls ran and there were gunshots and screaming and she watched the girls disappear into Scott’s people and into the trees, ignoring everything around her until they were out of sight.

Then she turned and pulled a gun and turned back towards Ryder’s people, aiming carefully before each shot. She knew them, had memorized their faces over months of torture and over a year of living in terror. 

Lightning crackled along Kira’s katana and out of her palms to slam into Ryder’s men.

It was over in moments except for the screaming. Ryder’s men broke, running the way they had come, and Scott’s people pursued them into the dark.

Derek stood over Lyall on the ground, blood streaming from the bodyguard. Derek had his hands on Malia’s shoulders, checking her throat. They both nodded at her.

Scott held Ryder on his knees, both of them bloody and panting for breath. Kira stood over him, katana to his throat.

Ryder only had eyes for her as she approached slowly. “I would have made you a queen.”

“I’ve been a queen,” she said softly. “It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”

“I would have-” He gurgled as she yanked the necklace from her throat and shoved it into his. Blood spurted onto her hands but his eyes didn’t leave hers, hatred flashing in them.

“You made me a widow,” she whispered, and watched as for the smallest of moments he looked remorseful. She stood and looked at Kira steadily. “Take his head.”

 

They burned the separate parts of his body. Lydia stood and watched until he was dust, ignoring the smell, Scott’s concern, all of it. 

And finally, she felt the uneasiness lift and turned to her friends. “Let’s go home.”

 

 

Robert bounced into the kitchen and she laughed as he spun her around and pulled her close for a ridiculous dance.

“Good day,” she asked, still laughing.

“We had a baby at the hospital today.”

Lydia straightened, her hands on his arms. “Oh my God, are they-?”

“They’re both fine. Perfect actually.”

“Oh!” She hugged him hard. “Oh, thank God.”

“So, I found you something to celebrate.”

“I think it’s the mom that should get gifts,” she joked.

“She got a baby. That’s a pretty awesome gift,” he pointed out. “Also, new clothes and lots of godparents. Her daughter, Alexis, is going to win awards as best big sister ever, at least according to her. So, they’re handled, I’m happy, you’re happy, and I found something I thought you’d like.”

She looked up as he was laying out some necklaces on the counter. “Robert! How many did you get?”

“I may have gone through a pile of discarded ones,” he said with a shrug.

Lydia ignored what discarded meant, and walked over to look at them. She knew as soon as she saw it. 

It was a silver pendant in the shape of an arrowhead. She picked it up, hands shaking, and checked the back. It was real silver. 

“Argent,” she murmured.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lied easily and smiled at him slightly. “Just… this one.”

“Really? That’s weird.” She frowned at him and he backpedaled. “No, I mean, not weird that you like it. Just, well, I picked all of these, thinking they’d be more like you, and I passed over this one, but then, something told me to grab it too. I almost didn’t.” He smiled. “Glad I did. And look-” He motioned to the chain. “You can add more charms to it.”

He looped it around her neck. She shook her head and went to a drawer, pulling a whetstone from it, and set the tip of the necklace to it.

“What are you doing?”

“Sharpening it,” she said, and raised her eyebrow at him as if questioning his intelligence.

“No, I see that, but why?”

She smiled bitterly. “Because I’m not a wolf, and I’ve never been a good shot.” She held up the slightly more pointed charm. “I am a survivor, though, and I can fight.” She smiled at him widely. “And I’m smart.” She reached up to brush her fingers along the pendant, smiling at it’s sharpness. “Who knows? Maybe someday, I won’t need it anymore.”

 

 

The drive had taken three days, with minimal stopping along the way.

They had a working hospital in Beacon Hills, and she remembered it of course, but it seemed like something out of a dream. She had known every inch of this building once, in another life. Every bloody inch.

Melissa McCall met her at the door, tears in her eyes, and Lydia knew she was home.

Lydia was given her own room, which was a sort of miracle, and then told she had to stay put, which annoyed her to no end. Ryder had broken two of her ribs, not to mention various cuts and past wounds that needed to be looked after.

She had slept her first night there and woken to find her room full of anxious people she never thought she would see again. She couldn’t smile or laugh, because that hurt, but she couldn’t stop herself from weeping at the sight of Kira smiling down at her. One by one her friends smiled and squeezed her hand and laughed and told her they loved her. Scott was the last to leave, tears still wet on his cheeks as he’d told her he’d missed her.

Lydia nodded, mostly numb from both medication and too much emotion at once. Finally, Lydia was left to sleep again. 

The next few days blended together and mostly all she did was sleep. Once, she woke in the night and found the sheriff at her bedside, reading, with Mr. Argent looking out the window pensively. “You’re here,” she whispered.

Sheriff Stilinski smiled and nodded. “We won’t leave you alone.”

“I know.” She smiled. “Thank you for coming for me.”

Chris walked over and set his hand on hers. “We protect those who can’t protect themselves. That was smart. She would have been so proud of you.”

“I hope so.”

After another day of bedrest she forced them to let her go free, which really meant she got up and got dressed and glared at anyone who tried to stop her. A few of her girls were still in the hospital and Melissa escorted her to each one, listening to her talk about any health problems she had observed. 

The girls all wept to see her and she stayed with each one, holding them, lying with them, whatever they needed.

Finally, as the sun started to set she found herself stepping out of the hospital doors and breathing in the air of home.

“You okay?”

She looked over to find Kira waiting on her, smiling gently. She reached up and tugged the girls much shorter hair. “I like it.”

“It’s easier to fight with,” Kira said simply. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“The other girls?”

“Scott set them up with housing before we even got back to town,” she reassured her. “We were going to give them separate homes, but they refused. So, we set them up in what should be a very familiar mansion.”

Lydia blinked and then groaned. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” the kitsune laughed, her eyes glowing. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

 

Lydia came out of the fugue state with a sob, recognizing the body instantly, or rather, bodies.

Abigail, she remembered, but her eyes were stuck on the baby. Dante. Robert had helped deliver him. He wasn’t even a year old.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” She turned and found bright blue eyes shining back at her.

“Did you do this?”

The werewolf grinned, blood splattered across his clothes. “Yes. Any last words before I do the same to you?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Where’s the girl?”

He faltered. “What girl?”

Lydia didn’t wait for his words to finish echoing around her before she brought out the powdered wolfsbane, blowing it into his face. He rocked back, caught off guard, and as he blinked and tried to focus on her she slammed the blade into his chest, up and under the ribs, straight into his heart. He choked and looked at her incredulously as he staggered back. “What?”

“Wolfsbane,” she whispered. “Poison.”

She stood over him, making sure he was dead before she ran quickly to Abigail’s home, praying. The house was dark and silent as she pushed the door open.

“Alexis?” She called, feeling tears slip down her cheeks.

The boards above her creaked and a moment later the girl appeared at the top of the stairs, a forlorn expression on her face. They stared at each other in silence until the girl sighed and sniffled. “My mom’s dead, huh?”

“Yes, baby girl.”

“And my brother?”

Lydia could only nod, and then she held out her hand. “You’re going to come live with me, now, okay?”

Alexis nodded after a moment and walked down the stairs, tears dry on her cheeks and clutching a doll. “I knew she was,” she whispered. “She never would have left me alone for more than a few minutes.”

Lydia smiled and hugged her close. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

 

 

Lydia unlocked Skylar’s chains with her hands shaking. “You have to move quickly, and do exactly what I say, do you understand?”

“What’s happening?”

“Ryder’s wolves were circling this place last night and this morning. I think they know what you are.”

Skylar’s eyes widened. “Oh, no.”

“They’ll want you. You know they will. So, you have to go. Go west, okay? There’s some towns in Ohio I’ve heard about, that are taking people in. I need you to go there and set me up some contacts okay?”

“Contacts?” 

“This place is a hell,” Lydia murmured. “I’m going to save whoever I can, whenever I can. I need somewhere to send them.” She hesitated. “Can you turn all the way to wolf?”

“I...I think so. I did it once, before. My parents were there, though, to talk me through it.”

“Focus on what they said, and how they said it. I believe in you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Break about twenty perfume bottles around the house and neighborhood, so no one can pick up your scent for a while.”

Skylar was long gone by the time Ryder came up, ringing the bell so hard she thought it would break.

Lydia came to the door and frowned at him. “You found the bodies, then?”

“Mind explaining why I smelled you there, Simeone?”

“I found the bodies,” she whispered and then took a shuddering breath. 

“Why didn’t you send for me or my people?”

“Because it was already too late. He was newly bitten. He should have been locked up.”

“Did you kill him?”

“He was trying to kill me, so I consider it self-defense, but yes, I did.”

He stared at her. “How?”

“I stabbed him,” she said pointedly. “The knife was still there, wasn’t it?”

“It was. And wolfsbane was everywhere. And so was the stink of very strong perfume.” 

She nodded. “Are you here to arrest me?”

“No,” he said after a moment. “You were defending yourself,” he said gruffly, watching her. “And he should have been locked up. He must have broken free.”

“A lot of your wolves must have that issue. I saw several of them last night.”

“They’re looking for someone. A girl.”

She blinked. “Aren’t there enough girls for you at the State House?”

“Not that kind of girl,” he muttered. “I think you already know that. Did you help her escape?”

“If she comes back, I’ll let you know,” she promised and smiled very slightly. “Is that all?”

“Why do you do this?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. “You could be so much more. You could have so much power.”

“I don’t want power,” she said softly. 

“I’d protect you,” he said as though that meant something.

“One of my friends had a motto: Protect those who can’t protect themselves. I don’t think you’d be very good at that. It goes against everything you are.”

He grinned then. “I like you, you know. You’re braver than half the people I’ve ever met.”

She simply raised her eyebrows at him. “Is that all?”

“We should be friends,” he said with a slow shake of his head, a patronizing smile on his face. “I bet we’d make a hell of a team.”

“I’d rather die though,” she said with a smile. “I knew someone like you once.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “It took some time, but he eventually got his ass handed to him, just like you will.” She shut the door on his frown.

 

 

By the time she walked up a very familiar driveway she was almost in tears. Kira had filled her in on everything. She knew her mother was dead, and had screamed for her late in the night in the middle of that first winter. Still, hearing about the illness and attempts by her friends to save her added emotion she hadn’t prepared for.

New arrivals had lived in her old home off and on, helped maintain it, until they found homes of their own.

Apparently, a certain Stiles Stilinski had made it clear that the Martin home was off-limits to permanent residence.

It made her smile and cry at the same time.

As she entered the home, her girls swarmed her, hugging her, crying. They walked her through the house, showing where they had set up to sleep, and what they had been doing since arriving.

Already they were making it a home again, and she was surprised it didn’t hurt as much as she’d thought it would to walk through this place again.

 

 

Lydia came awake slowly, feeling the stickiness of blood coating her wrists and matting her hair. A girl she didn’t recognize was cleaning her gently.

He had needed her scream for his ritual.

She’d made them work for it.

“Morning,” he said softly from a chair next to her bed. 

She twisted to see him and couldn’t help the reflex that made her flinch back.

For a moment he looked truly sorry, reaching out towards her. “You’re okay.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” Her words slurred and she frowned. “You drugged me.”

“I don’t want you in pain,” he whispered, and leaned back in his chair. “I shot myself this morning with a wolfsbane bullet.” He grinned. “It healed.”

“Pity,” she murmured.

“Lydia, I don’t want this for you,” he said earnestly. “I had hoped that one day you would be able to see things my way. I want you, you know.”

“Can’t always get what you want,” she drawled. 

“You’ll give in to me,” he said with a small smile. “Once you’re healed, I’ll begin to show you the world remade by me. I’m going to build an empire, Lydia.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You don’t have to be alone here. You can be mine, and I will be yours.”

“I’ll never be alone,” she whispered as she began to fall back into unconsciousness. “And I’ll never be yours.” She grinned. “Want to know a secret?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“When I screamed,” she whispered, and she could only see him more as a blob of color than as a person. “That scream was for you.”

 

 

On the third day, she had the children in the backyard, Lydia was lecturing the children on flowers, which mostly meant making flower crowns, but she would never admit it.

“This part is called a corona,” she explained patiently. “Oh, also, a corona means crown too!” She laughed at herself while the children mostly ignored her. This, she thought happily, was what life was meant to be. 

“Simeone!” Someone was screaming. “Simeone, there is a man!”

Lydia bolted to her feet, reaching for an aluminum baseball bat she had started carrying with her everywhere, and ran inside and towards the front door.

“I don’t care who told you you could stay, get your friends and get out! This home belongs to someone already!” A furious voice echoed from the entryway.

Lydia stopped, hand outstretched to the wall to hold herself up, her breath catching.

“Simeone!” Alexis yelled and she could see others, hands outstretched, holding someone back.

“And tell whoever Simeone is that he’s not welcome either! Where did you people even come from?!”

“Boston,” she yelled from where she was leaning on the wall. “They came from Boston.”

Every voice went silent and there was the sound of a brief struggle, with his voice rising. “No, damnit, let me go!”

“Let him go,” she said loudly, wondering if her voice sounded steady, because she thought she might fall over as she rounded the corner. “Girls, this is the Thinker.”

Stiles was being held back, or possibly being held upright by Alexis and Merry. He just stared at her. His hair was short again, but he was, impossibly, taller, and wider in the shoulders. He had small scars littering one cheek. There were dark bags under his eyes that reminded her of the time of the nogitsune.

He was still lean, and when his lips started to tick up she recognized her Stiles in this man. “That’s a very familiar baseball bat.”

She smiled very slightly and leaned the bat against the wall. “Hey, Stilinski.”

“Oh!” Alexis let go of him immediately and stepped back, grinning largely. “Oh, it’s you! We’ve heard so much about you!”

“You have?” He said, his voice obviously on auto-pilot as he continued to stare.

“You’re in all of her stories. You’re the hero. I slept in your room.”

Now his gaze moved to the younger girl. “My what?”

“I ran a hospital and women’s home there. All of the rooms had names instead of numbers.” Lydia smiled. “Yours was the best room, next to mine, of course.”

“Of course,” he said hoarsely and then blinked. “I’m gonna hug you now, okay?”

She nodded rapidly, tears spilling out of her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. “Oh God, yes, please.”

He held her so tightly, she knew she would bruise. She didn’t care. “I didn’t know you were back yet. Scott’s message said they were planning to send men for you. Then there was a late snow, and the passes were blocked. I almost went out of my mind.” He backed away. “I was on my way to his place when I saw people moving around in your house.”

She smiled, seeing Alexis pushing the girls out of the room to give them some privacy. “Yeah, I hear you’re pretty protective.”

“Lydia,” he whispered, his hands framing her face. “You’re really here?”

She almost expected him to start counting his fingers so she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m here.”

“Thank God,” he whispered. “I knew it, you know? I knew you were alive. I dreamed it. I wasn’t going to give up on you. Not ever.”

“Yeah,” she whispered back. “I knew you wouldn’t.”

 

 

Winter was starting to creep up on them when Lydia realized she was finally really home to stay.

She had been in Beacon Hills since the rescue of course, but she realized one morning that she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something horrible and awful and deadly to pop up and ruin everything.

Of course, it’s Beacon Hills in a post-apocalyptic world, so that’s a given, but not once have they been unable to keep the horrible, awful, deadly thing back. Beacon Hills is protected, more than it ever was when she lived there before.

It’s home, she thought numbly, watching Alexis flirt awkwardly with a boy as they were lifting fruit baskets off of a truck and carrying them inside the school, which had been partially converted to a trade center and city hall. There were still classes being taught though, and they were agriculture instead of physics, but it made her happy.

“Hey, Lydia,” Stiles said, jogging up to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders in easy affection. He had been talking to the traders that brought the fruit. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Merry’s been teaching the kids how to make soap,” she said with a shrug. “I was going to walk her back home when she’s done.”

Most of the girls had acclimated easily to this new life. They bloomed with freedom and the town welcomed them with open arms. Some have even moved into their own homes.

Some, though, like Merry, still woke up screaming, and didn’t like being left alone. Some, like Alexis, will probably never leave her.

They may not be in Boston anymore, but they will always be her girls. She’s even working at the hospital, learning from Melissa and even occasionally giving suggestions based on what they had been forced to do. Nina is close to giving birth and she still only wants Lydia to help her. It’s given her a purpose.

Stiles grinned down at her. “Alright. We’re having deer chili for supper. And some of the greenhouse offerings need to be canned or preserved or whatever.”

“Canned or preserved or whatever?” She asked, eyebrows raised. 

He blushed and scuffed his shoes on the pavement. “Yeah, they don’t trust me near the glass objects.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” she deadpanned.

He removed his arm, giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Whatever. I have other talents.”

“Really? Like what?” She asked, incredulous, then grinned at his glare.

“I’ll come by tomorrow and give the girls the cloth I’m negotiating for,” he said sincerely and started to walk away.

“I was going to name my son for you,” she blurted, then closed her eyes at her own stupidity.

He stopped and looked at her. “What?”

“Robert and I… We thought we might be pregnant once.” She had told him about Robert, probably told him more about her time in Boston than she had told anyone else. She had never told him this. “He said I got to pick the name for the first kid.” She rubs her chest at the ache that thinking of Robert always causes. It’s an ache that’s fading, but it’s still there. “Stiles Scott Avi Simeone.”

He blinked at her for a moment. “That’s a horrible name.”

She glared at him.

He laughed, running his hand through his hair. “So, why me?”

She smiled and took a deep breath. “Because I went out of my freaking mind without you, for a little while. But I knew you were still around. I knew all of you were still around. So, I decided to suck it up and live.”

He smiled. “You’re a freaking hero, Martin. Those girls, they worship you.”

“Yeah, I didn’t do it alone,” she said, willing him to see what she was trying to say. “You were with me, cracking awful jokes in the back of my mind. Allison was with me sometimes, or at least I pretended she was. She told me not to ever give up. Sometimes, Derek of all people were reminding me of what I could be. Usually, though, it was you.” He blinked and she sighed. “You’re my tether, you know?” 

He grinned and strode back over to her, gathering her close for a tight hug. “Yeah, I know.”

She pulled back and pressed her lips to his. It wasn’t the most passionate kiss, and it took him a few seconds to even respond, but she thought it was pretty perfect when he pulled her close to him and she could feel his hands shaking as he held her face.

“Lydia,” he whispered against her cheek, still kissing her as she moved back to breathe. His kisses danced over her face and she laughed. 

“I promised myself that if I ever saw you again, I would do that,” she whispered.

“Oh.” He stepped back, staring at her, his cheeks flushed, his hair mussed from her fingers. “Cool.”

She grinned. “So, cloth?”

“Cloth?” He blinked at her and she nodded towards the trader giving them a bemused look. “Oh, crap, cloth!”

“Yep, cloth,” she said with a laugh and shoved his shoulder gently. “You better go.”

Merry was walking towards them, and by the grin on her face she had seen everything. Lydia would never hear the end of it now.

“Okay.” He grinned at her. “I’ll see you later?”

“Apparently there will be deer chili,” she said wryly.

“Right. Yep.” He started to walk away and then spun back just as she had opened her mouth to greet Merry. “Just so we’re clear, will there be more kissing?”

She laughed. “Depends on the cloth you get.”

He bounded back to her, reminding her of the awkward boy from so long ago, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a much more passionate kiss. When he let go of her they were both gasping, and people were whistling. “Bye.”

She laughed, blushing, and walked home. 

Merry teased her the entire way.

 

 

Lydia came into the room, practically vibrating with excitement. Both Scott and Malia looked up at her, one amused, one more confused. Stiles looked up and grinned widely. “You got it?!”

“I got it!” She bounced on her toes and presented the letter with a flourish. “A summer internship at MIT, in the Chemistry department!”

Stiles whooped and lifted her in a circle, and then Scott did the same, her shrieks of laughter filling the room.

“What the Hell is going on?” Malia asked.

Kira explained it to her patiently.

“When do you go?” Stiles asked. 

“I’ll go as soon as the semester is over. I’ll be gone almost four months.”

His face fell. “That long?”

Scott clapped him on the back. “Dude.”

Stiles grinned immediately. “I mean, it’s awesome!”

Lydia laughed, the excitement running through her like blood. “I can’t wait!” She sobered. “You’ll call me, right? I mean, it’s awesome, but I’m going to miss you guys.”

“You will?” Stiles winced when she punched him in the shoulder. “I mean, of course you will.”

“Yes,” Scott said with a roll of his eyes. “We will call you every day.”

“And there’s Skype,” Stiles pointed out quickly. “I’ll facetime you all of the time, tell you everything you’re missing.”

She grinned. “Good.”

 

At the airport weeks later it was Melissa who hugged her as tightly as her own mother had and smiled at her, subtly handing her a tissue. “It will speed by. I promise. Enjoy it, because before you know it, you’ll be back home, rolling your eyes at the boys and shopping with Kira.”

“I’ve never been so far from home alone.”

“Oh, honey, you won’t be alone,” Melissa promised. “Even if these idiots don’t call you every other hour, you would never be alone. We’re here,” she tapped above Lydia’s heart, tears in her own eyes. “We believe in you, so you are never alone.”

“Mom just called us idiots,” Scott said, loud and indignant.

“You are,” Derek rumbled.

Lydia rolled her eyes and smiled and went to Boston.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE leave a kudos or a comment letting me know whatcha thought! Thank you so much for reading!


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